


six dandelions

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Hurt Shiro, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Angst, Mutual Pining, OC Kids - Freeform, Post S1 finale, Post-Canon, canon divergent because it goes WAY into the future, dandelions are the sheith flower you can't convince me otherwise, eventual return to earth, possibly the best proposal i've written to date?, they kinda dance around their feelings for a while
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 09:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8200900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: Shiro watches Keith bend down, following the curve of Keith's spine as the younger man inspects the foot of the balcony. There’s a familiar ache in his chest that he tries to rub out as Keith straightens up and turns to face Shiro with a perfectly round dandelion puff clasped in his hand. With the soft grin that always makes Shiro’s heart flutter nervously, Keith holds the flower out towards Shiro. “Make a wish.”--The common and humble dandelion has a surprising amount of different meanings. Each meaning happens to fit Sheith to a T. This is the story about the six times dandelions played a role/showed up in Shiro & Keith's relationship.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired by this awesome post by alastia ](https://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/151305167490/alastia-sheith-and-dandelions-though) which rightly points out that the dandelion should be the Sheith flower. I mean... _it fits_.
> 
> This took me a _long_ while to wrap up cuz... well I kinda... kept... forgetting about it.......... but its done now! please enjoy!
> 
> ANYWAYS. MAJOR thanks to quotidiandreams for being my beta, she's too good to me ; -;

 

> _ The simple dandelion flower has a surprising amount of different meanings. A dandelion can mean: _
> 
> _ the warmth and power of the rising sun, _

 

As he pulls the sleeveless vest on, Shiro shakes his head to get rid of the last vestiges of sleep that cling to him. Glances out the small window to gauge the time. The deep violet of the night sky is starting to fade away to deep blue, growing paler gold towards the horizon.

 

Almost dawn. He’s somehow managed to sleep most of the night away.

 

Bitterly, he thanks the Garrison scientists for the tranquilizers they’d given him and heads towards the door. All is quiet in the small shack sans the wood creaked under his boots. Three of his rescuers are piled together on the sofa, fast asleep.

 

Shiro observes them for a while, trying to figure out if he knows them, but his hazy memory refuses to cooperate. There is  _ something  _ about the smallest member of the group that seems familiar. It’s the hair or glasses which make him think,  _ I think I know them _ . But the harder Shiro tries to work that out, the more his head aches.

 

His brain feels like a tomato being viciously squeezed. Just a bit more pressure and it’s going to pop. Nausea bubbles up his throat, clawing its way past the iron trap clutching his lungs in its vice-like grip. Swiping a hand across his forehead, Shiro thinks,  _ I need air _ , and stumbles out the front door.

 

Hurrying away from the shack, Shiro leaves a small cloud of dust in his wake. Counts his steps along the way, compass needle spinning wildly in search of a focal point. Pauses atop the small dune that’s settled 100 odd yards from the frail looking structure. Tries to breathes.

 

_ All this open space _ , he thinks to himself, tipping his head back to stare at a wispy cloud,  _ and I still feel trapped _ .

 

Dawn is fast approaching, a soft gray-yellow hue spreading further across the sky. But in his head, darkness lingers. The ache in his head presses against his eyeballs, each dull thud feeling like a hammer blow. Shiro raises a hand up to massage the pain away and freezes when the light bounces off his metallic arm.

 

He’s had this arm for a while now, but Shiro’s never  _ seen _ it. He’s never allowed himself to do so. Not really. It’s easy to ignore a lot of things in the poor light of his cell. Easier still to ignore everything but the instinct to survive when in the arena. Sometimes ignorance is a necessary sin for survival.

 

Shiro feels repulsion and fascination war inside him as he tests his range of motion. The arm whirs with every move, twisting this way and that with all the grace of a flesh and bone limb. Pale sunlight glints off the dull metal.

 

Strange how it’s all metal and wires and yet doesn’t weigh him down. Shiro feels like it should be heavier. His fingers run up the cool metal, stopping at the junction where metal turns to flesh. The swell of emotions that run through him at the touch are overwhelming.

 

Fear. There’s so much fear. The flash of a memory of being strapped down to a table, screaming in agony. Blood.  _ So much  _ blood. Swallowing as he’s dragged down a corridor, surprised he doesn’t taste blood thanks to his ragged throat.

 

It’s a handful of memories. That’s all he’s got after a year's worth of captivity. And he’s  _ so _ grateful that’s all he remembers. Shiro feels a little weak with relief because if those small flashes are anything to go by? He’d like the rest of his memories of the past year to remain buried.

 

Clutching his right bicep harder, Shiro wonders if he just holds onto himself tight enough, he can stop the trembling that’s racing up his-

 

A gentle touch on his shoulder pulls him out of his reverie. “It’s good to have you back.”

 

Blinking, Shiro turns to look at Keith and finds his shoulders relaxing. He smiles faintly at the shorter man, crossing his arms to hide his still trembling left hand. The compass needle stills, trembling faintly.

 

Their conversation is brief. There’s a moment where Keith asks him what happened and the ugly, oil-slick emotions from before threaten to overwhelm him again. Asking, “How did you know to come rescue me?” turns the conversation away from him, holds the darkness at bay. Add to it Keith’s mysterious, “You should come see this,” and the darkness recedes. 

 

For the moment.

 

As he follows his friend back to the shack, Shiro stares at Keith’s back and wonders how he’s been. His eyes traces the proud line of Keith’s shoulders, frowns faintly because while the red and white jacket suits Keith, shouldn’t he be wearing the orange cadet uniform?

 

The question rolls down the hillside, snowballing into an avalanche of silent queries. What has Keith been doing in the last year? Did he miss Shiro? Did he look for him? Why is he out here living in this shack? What happened to being a pilot with Galaxy Garrison? Is it just his imagination or has Keith gotten taller? Leaner as well?

 

“Huh,” Keith says.

 

Pulled from his thoughts, Shiro watches Keith bend down, following the curve of his spine as the younger man inspects the foot of the balcony. There’s a familiar ache in his chest that he tries to rub out as Keith straightens up and turns to face Shiro with a perfectly round dandelion puff clasped in his hand.

 

With the soft grin that always makes Shiro’s heart flutter nervously, Keith holds the flower out towards Shiro. “Make a wish.”

 

Dumbly, Shiro accepts the puffball. Stares at it.

 

A wish, huh?

 

Shiro shrugs to himself.  What’s the harm?  

 

He takes a deep breath and blows, watching the seeds scatter and dance off into breeze.

 

“What did you wish for?” Keith asks after a beat.

 

_ I wish for peace and happiness. _

 

With a smile of his own, Shiro answers, “If I tell you, it won’t come true.”

 

\--

> _ overcoming challenges & difficulties, _

 

When he was a child, his parents took him to Miyagi for a summer. Shiro doesn’t remember most of it, just a couple of memories here and there. Chasing after cicadas with a giant net with a group of friends. Lying on the porch whining to his grandmother about the heat. Falling asleep to the cheerful tinkling of the wind chime. Insisting he could carry the watermelon home all on his own.

 

_ What I’d give for some watermelon right about now _ . Shiro sighs, footsteps echoing down the stairwell. Hell, while he’s making wishes, he’ll also wish for a massage. A good deep-tissue massage coupled with a long, hot bath to help him relax and forget about the memories that had come back after facing that robea-

 

“Hey, Shiro! Wait up!” Keith’s voice floats down after him.

 

Turning around, Shiro watches Keith take the steps two at a time and frowns, “Keith...”

 

“I know, I know,” Keith waves Shiro off. “‘Don’t run down the stairs’. I’ve heard that a million times. Where you going? I thought we could hang out for a while.”

 

With a rueful smile, Shiro nods towards the castle entrance. “I promised Coran I’d do a perimeter check. Wanna join me?”

 

He doesn’t bother hiding his hopefulness and Keith's face brightens instantly, “Sure. We checking for anything in particular?”

 

“Just need to make sure the shields are up and there’s nothing suspicious going on. And to see if we can find this.” Shiro takes out the hand-sized display tablet Coran had given him, pulls up a picture, and hands the device to Keith.

 

The other man frowns in confusion at the image.  “A flower? What’s so special about it?”

 

Shiro keeps his gaze forward towards the entrance.  “It’s got some medicinal properties.”

 

It’s not a lie. Not exactly.

 

The truth is this: a tea brewed from the flower induces a dreamless, uninterrupted sleep. But if he tells Keith this, Shiro will have to admit that he hasn’t been sleeping well, and Shiro doesn’t want to talk about his issues with  _ anyone _ . Not even Keith, who must have already guessed something is wrong due to their history.

 

Hell, the only reason Shiro had told Coran about his nightmares and his difficulties falling asleep was because the Altean had caught him wandering the halls in the dead of the night like some ghost.  Coran had immediately told him about the flower, and how the tea made from it could help Shiro sleep easier.

 

So Shiro  _ knows _ Keith knows he’s holding something back. But in a rare display of tact, yet another reminder that Keith has grown, Keith simply hums, taps the display screen, and laughs softly.  “It kinda looks like a dandelion, doesn’t it?”

 

“What?” Shiro shoots Keith a confused glance before looking back at the picture. “That looks nothing like it.”

 

Keith rolls his eyes. “Sure it does! I mean, it’s pink instead of yellow, but it’s got the same dome shape. The petals are the biggest difference though.”

 

Shiro’s confusion deepens. “Petals? Isn’t a dandelion that fluffy seed ball?”

 

Laughing, Keith shakes his head, “It is, but it’s a flower first. It blossoms to look like this,” Keith waves the picture at him. “But with round, yellow petals. It shrivels up again into a bud and  _ then _ turns into that fluff ball.”

 

The description brings a memory forward. Nine year-old him crouching next to a tree, carefully plucking a long-stemmed yellow flower and adding it to the bouquet of wildflowers he’s collecting for his mother. “With kind of prickly shaped leaves?” Shiro asks.

 

“Never imagined we’d see them on another planet,” Keith hands the device back. Shiro feels his heart skip a beat when their fingers brush against each other. “Coran say how many we need?”

 

“As many as we can find.”  

 

Keith’s hand taps his shoulder, fingertips dragging down the curve of Shiro’s bicep. Shiro struggles not to show how much the simple contact affects him. His eyes fall shut anyways, breath hitching.

 

“Let’s go. We’re wasting daylight.”

 

Not trusting his voice to remain steady, Shiro nods and follows Keith out. His heart races well after the gentle heat of Keith’s touch fades away.

 

\--

> _ healing from physical and emotional pain, _

 

Shiro plants one foot into the lush grass and the world tilts. Everything in front of him - Keith, their lions, the forest they’ve crashed in the middle of - just lurches to the right.

 

His shoulder hits the dirt first. The dull ripple of pain that’s been needling him since their escape turns into pure  _ agony _ when his injured side connects with the ground. A choked yell falls out of his lips, covering the sound of Keith’s worried shout.

 

Numbness spreads through him, muffling Keith’s voice. He keeps calling Shiro’s name -- Shiro tries to answer him, but his tongue feels too big for his mouth. Still, he must say  _ something _ because the panic in Keith’s voice rises.

 

Cool hands pull his helmet off before stroking his hair off his sweaty brow. Shiro whimpers, wishing the world would stop spinning.

 

“You’re burning up!”

 

One of Keith’s hands moves in-between Shiro’s shoulder and the ground, carefully hefting Shiro up into a seated position. It’s like being stuck with a scalding knife that twists and scrapes his insides.

 

A high, pained noise catches in  Shiro’s throat, tapering off into a longer whine as Keith worriedly asks, “What is it? What’s...You’re hurt!” Worried eyes pierce through the fog settling into his head. “Have you been hurt this  _ entire _ time?”

 

There’s honest to god fear lurking behind Keith’s angry question. He feels it in the way Keith digs his fingers into Shiro’s shoulder, likely leaving behind bruises. Keith’s concern for him pushes some of the fog out of his brain, makes him grab onto the sliver of coherency hovering within his grasp.

 

“Hagar,” Shiro croaks out, digging his fingers into the wet earth as Keith gently grazes the tender skin around the scratches. It’s the softest of touches, but the pain it sends shooting through him makes Shiro want to  _ scream _ . Shiro bites the inside of his cheeks but there’s no stopping the low groan from slipping past his teeth when Keith’s fingertips tap the edge of his wounds.

 

Keith is muttering angry curses under his breath; something about stubborn pilots who don’t know when to respect their limits. Shiro tries to laugh at the irony but a single chuckle sends a bolt of pain shooting up his side, making him grind his teeth instead.

 

“You need the first aid kit,” Keith tells him, planting one knee firmly into the grass. Dimly, Shiro thinks he’d like to kiss the worried look away. It doesn’t suit Keith, never has. “I’m going to have to move you. Think you can manage to get on your feet?”

 

Shiro’s not sure he can but he nods anyways. What other choice is there? He futilely tries to brace himself for the pain, and holds his breath when Keith pulls Shiro’s arm over his shoulder.  “Ready? 1... 2... 3.”

 

Agony shoots up his side as soon as he’s shifts. By the time they’re vertical, Shiro’s struggling to hold onto his consciousness. Every step feels like someone is shoving a hot brand into his side, pressing harder and harder until Shiro struggles to breathe.

 

Black and white spots dance in front of his eyes as Keith carefully lowers him into a sitting position against Black’s paw. Shiro knows he swims in and out of consciousness after that. He’s just in too much pain to stay conscious after that point. Even breathing is a chore at this point, much less keeping his eyes open.

 

He’s reminded of the vintage toy his grandmother bought him as a child. What was it called... a View Master or something? It feels like someone’s got that toy’s viewing scope pressed against his eyes, and each time he blinks, a button is being pressed to switch to the next picture.

 

Click.

 

Keith’s worried face hovers inches away from his, his lips mouthing Shiro’s name.

 

Click.

 

The aqua light of Keith’s wrist display highlights the deep, worried furrow on the other paladin’s face as he taps the holograph.

 

Click.

 

Keith angrily muttering, “Where the hell did Pidge install that...” as he swipes past multiple menus.

 

Click.

 

A cyan light sweeps over his face without warning, making him flinch. Keith apologizes, crouched less than a foot away, “Sorry.”

 

Click.

 

“Shiro. Hey, Shiro?”

 

Skull filled with rocks, Shiro picks his head off his shoulder with great difficulty and turns to Keith. Blinks tiredly at the other man. Shiro is  _ so _ tired. He feels like he’s made of lead and cement.

 

“What is it?” he slurs.

 

“I used the medical diagnosis software Pidge installed in our suits to check how you’re doing,” Keith hesitates before continuing in a shakier tone, “You’ve been poisoned.”

 

Of course he has. He should have expected that from the Galra witch.

 

“The good news is,” Keith continues in a brighter tone, but still gentle, “there’s an antidote for it. The program said there’s a couple of plants that can reverse the effect of the poison.”

 

There’s got to be a catch involved, right?

 

“I’m gonna hafta leave you alone for a while to go look for it.”

 

_ There it is _ , Shiro thinks tiredly, closing his eyes for a moment. The sound of the other shoe dropping.

 

“Go,” he instructs. Clearly torn, Keith hesitates by his side. His eyes drop down to Shiro’s wound before glancing over at the forest. His distress at what he must do softens Shiro’s tone when he repeats, “Go. I’ll be fine. Red and Black will make sure I’m safe.”

 

A steady warmth presses through his bond with Black, a quiet reassurance that they would look out for him in Keith’s absence. His words have Keith’s eyes moving up to glance at each lion. Some of his indecision has faded away when his gaze lowers. Shiro can only assume Red must have sent Keith the same message Black gave him.

 

But Keith hesitates again. Swallowing hard enough for an audible clicking sound to reach Shiro’s ears. He stares at Keith, wondering what’s wrong now. Is there something else that Keith isn’t telling him? Shiro blinks, opens his mouth to ask what is it when suddenly Keith’s shifting forward.

 

His arms wrap carefully around Shiro’s shoulders, body shying away from Shiro’s injured side. Shiro feels his mouth go dry when he realizes Keith’s trembling. His fingers twitch with the desire to touch Keith and reassure him that everything will be okay. Because it will be.  _ He’ll _ be okay. Shiro has faith in Keith.

 

But the thought flies out the window when a cool, dry kiss brushes against his forehead. He’s dizzy for a whole new reason now. Eyes wide, Shiro stares up into Keith’s flushed face and realizes the world just tipped for him once again.

 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Just hang on, okay?”

 

Shiro nods dumbly, wishing he had the strength to raise his arm up and touch the spot Keith just kissed. Unfortunately, he doesn’t even have the strength to stay awake. He falls asleep to the sight of Keith walking into the tree line, the kiss burning hot against his skin.

 

He dreams of simpler times; a hot summer day and a field of wildflowers. Shiro can almost feel the sweat dripping down the back of his neck. Can taste the pollen in the air as he runs around with his cousins, collecting posies to make flower crowns for themselves and their parents.

 

His small fingers braids long-stemmed dandelions together, enjoying the crisp, sweet smell coming from the flower. Their scent is so strong it’s almost as though someone’s holding a whole bouquet under his nose.

 

A twig snaps, causing Shiro to jerk out of his half-awake state.

 

Keith’s concerned, “Shiro?” has his attention shifting to the other paladin, who kneels by his side with a hand resting lightly on Shiro’s bare arm. Shiro stares into Keith’s worried eyes before staring at the point of contact. Uses it as an anchor to calm his racing heart down. He doesn’t  _ quite  _ succeed.

 

Closing his eyes, Shiro takes stock of himself and immediately realizes the pain in his side has subsided to a dull ache. To the point that he can raise his hand up, press it against the thick, clay-like paste caked against his injured side, and feel nothing more than the dullest twinge of pain. It hurts less than a pulled muscle.

 

“You found the plant.” Pride tints his voice golden, overtaking his initial relief. Why wouldn’t it after all? His faith in Keith has never led him astray. The thought makes Shiro smile.

 

Keith mirrors his smile, hand sliding down to rest on top of Shiro’s hand like an afterthought. Jerks his head towards the small fire burning behind him and the small pot steaming away on top. Was that pot part of the emergency supplies stashed in each lion? “Found a whole field of them actually. How are you feeling?”

 

“Better,” Shiro sighs, relaxing against Black. “Alive.”

 

He wonders if Keith will takes his hand away if Shiro turns his wrist and presses their palms together. Foolishly decides he’ll take the chance. He’s finished turning his wrist around and Keith takes his hand back. Shiro tries not to feel too disappointed.

 

Some of his true feelings must show because Keith starts to reach out but his hand falls down back into his lap halfway. The pot bubbles away in the background as they avoid each other's eyes.

 

Until finally Keith clears his throat. “Remind me to thank Pidge for insisting we all had to have the castle’s diagnostic program installed in our suits.”

 

Shiro stares at Keith’s upturned palm and wonders what Keith was going to do. Would he have gone back to touching Shiro’s hand? Maybe even touch his face? Hug him again?

 

Wishful thinking is rapidly going from a guilty pleasure to a masochistic hobby for Shiro. Closing his eyes, Shiro centers himself with a deep inhale. Scrubs his hand down his face, pausing when the familiar sweet smell drifts up his nostrils.

 

“Dandelions.” The word slips out before he can catch it, surprised eyes flying from his fingers to Keith. “This paste smells like dandelions.”

 

Recognition flares in Keith’s eyes immediately, pulling his lips up into a small. “I kept wondering what it was. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.”

 

Shiro breathes in the flowery scent, closes his eyes with an appreciative inhale before exhaling quietly. That explains the vivid memory-dream he’d had. Opening his eyes, he asks Keith, “What does the flower look like?”

 

It’s not a query Keith expects if his startled little blink is anything to go by. But he gathers himself quickly enough, straightening up. “It’s like a mutant orchid, just a lot more orange. Lemme show you.”

 

Shiro presses his hand back against his side, watching Keith walk away and come back. Smiles faintly. “You won’t believe where it was growing either,” Keith says as he walks back, boots whispering against the grass with each step.

 

This time, he sits closer to Shiro. His knees are less than an inch away from Shiro’s thighs. Shiro makes himself sit up straighter, purely as an excuse to stretch and make the connection between them.

 

It’s another deliberate move on his part to accept the flower (which really does look like a mutant orchid) by curling his digits around Keith’s fingers. Shiro feels a fine tremble run through Keith and revels in the answering thrill that zips down his spine.

 

Keith’s eyes drop down to linger on their joined fingers, a ruddy color on his cheeks. Something in between relief and disappoint flash over his face when Shiro pulls away, taking the flower into his hand and asks, “Tell me.”

 

Taking a deep breath to center himself, Keith begins his tale. Cheeks still red. Shiro holds the fist-sized flower under his nose to enjoy its scent and mostly to hide his smile behind. Distantly, somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice whispers,  _ you shouldn’t have done that _ .

 

\--

> _ emotional and spiritual intelligence, _

 

Keith raising his hand to pat his hair down is a self-conscious gesture he’s taken up after they’d landed on this planet. There’s something about the atmosphere has made Keith’s hair fluff up something terrible. And every since Hunk pointed that out? Keith’s been trying to pat his hair down back to it’s usual volume. It’s been a losing battle, Shiro grins as he traces the poofy shape of Keith’s hair.

 

A flash of a thought runs through his mind, ‘ _ Dandelion head _ .’ and he laughs. The fact that the setting sun has tinted Keith’s hair gold doesn’t help the flower comparison either. Keith knows it’s about his hair and shoots him a pout.

 

It’s cute, unbearably cute, to the point Shiro’s heart clenches. The degree to which Keith is unguarded around him is just too much for him to bear.

 

Something flashes in Keith’s eyes. A look that immediately has warning bells ringing in Shiro’s head. Shiro’s mind goes immediately to summer storms and lightning strikes. Licks his lips to test if he can taste the electric feeling that’s making his hair on the nape of his nape stand up.

 

But before Shiro can  _ blink _ , Keith’s surging him to press their lips together in a hard but chaste kiss. It’s too much pressure and off center. It lasts a glorious, world-shattering moment before Shiro realizes he... _ they _ can’t.

 

Shiro wishes he was pushing forward for a deeper taste instead of regretfully pulling away, lips tingling, “Keith...”

 

“Don’t say it.” Keith pleads.

 

But Shiro says it anyways. “We can’t.” He makes it as gentle as possible but the way Keith flinches? You’d think he shouted it.

 

With desperate anger burning in his eyes, Keith asks, “Why  _ not _ ?”

 

“It’s too risky. We could jeopardize our ability to form Voltron..”

 

“Bullshit,” Keith snaps back immediately. “Tell me the truth. What’s the real reason why we can’t.”

 

He doesn’t know why he forgets that much in the same way Shiro can read Keith like an open book, the opposite holds true as well.

 

“That  _ is _ the truth,” Shiro insists because it  _ is _ partially true if not the whole truth.

 

The truth is something that rolls through his mind at the peak of his insomnia, flooding him with a cold fear.

 

But Keith is shaking his head, “If that was true then you wouldn’t have done  _ half _ the things you did.”

 

Heat crawls up his neck along with guilty shame because Keith’s right.

 

If he  _ really _ did think that his feelings for Keith, and a possible relationship, could mess up their bond? Shiro wouldn’t have done  _ a lot _ of things. Wouldn’t have initiated so much contact. Wouldn’t have encouraged Keith’s flirting. Wouldn’t have dragged his fingertips down Keith’s bare arm while passing him by. Wouldn’t have almost held his hand on that planet after getting hurt.

 

Wouldn’t have generally encouraged Keith and made him think that  _ they _ could be more than a possibility.

 

Shiro shakes his head in denial, taking half a step back. But Keith presses forward the whole step, fingers curling tightly around Shiro’s clenched fist. “Sh- _ Takashi _ ,” Keith says softly. “Why are you lying to me?”

 

Because he’s scared. Because he’s a coward. Because Keith is the only connection he’s got left of his time from before. Because Keith is his true north. Because Keith is invaluable to him in a multitude of ways and Shiro would never be able to forgive himself if he lost Keith due to his own actions.

 

“Keith,” he starts.

 

But Keith presses forward, challenges him, until they’re standing close enough for every exhale to make their chests brush. “What are you so worried about?”

 

Shiro’s not sure what does it. The gentleness of the question, the proximity, or the fact that he’s been holding onto his particular fear for so long that he’s  _ tired _ of being scared. The inquiry wedges into the slight opening it finds and pries the truth out of Shiro.

 

“I’m scared of losing you,” Shiro admits, scrubbing his free hand down his face.

 

This planet’s second sun dips under the horizon, taking with it the last of its golden rays. But the moon is already out, highlighting Keith’s startled expression and fluffy hair under its silvery light.

 

‘ _ God... now his hair  _ really _ looks like a dandelion puff,’  _ Shiro thinks helplessly.

 

Dark eyes blink up at him in surprise, softening minutely as Shiro starts to shake, “Ta-”

 

“I’m so scared that if I... if we...” Shiro shakes his head, helplessness swelling in him. “You’re too important to me, Keith.”

 

Warm fingertips press against his cheek, gently urging him to meet Keith's gaze. But Shiro can’t raise his head. He just holds his breath and keeps his eyes locked on the fingernail sized moon flowers that are slowly blossoming by their feet.

 

Keith ducks his head to meet his gaze anyways, the gentlest smile pulling his lips up. It’s filled with so much understanding and fondness that Shiro’s breath catches in his lungs.

 

“I love you too.”

 

Shiro chokes on a noise, causing Keith to laugh and hug him.

 

Keith’s palms are twin points of warmth resting easily on Shiro’s shoulder blades, anchoring him. His chin presses against Shiro’s shoulder, breath washing over Shiro’s neck, “You’re important to me too, you know.”

 

It’s ridiculous how rapidly Shiro’s resolve is withering away to nothing. His hands have already moved to hug Keith back, squeezing him as he confesses in a hushed whisper, “I don’t want to lose you. I  _ can’t _ , Keith.”

 

“You won’t.”

 

The firm confidence in Keith’s voice is surprising as much as it is gratifying. “How can you be sure of that? That we won’t...”

 

There’s nothing but fiery determination in Keith’s eyes and tone, and his tight grip, when he says, “Because that’s why I’m fighting. I lost you once and I’m not going to lose you again.”

 

A noise punches its way out of his chest. It’s cracked and jagged, cutting his insides and making him bleed. Shiro chokes, unable to stop himself from hugging Keith tighter. Pulling him in as close as it is physically possible.

 

"I love you too,” Shiro whispers into Keith’s hair, because that’s as much courage as he has right now.

 

Keith’s hands clench in his vest, shaking slightly, “I know.”

 

It takes Shiro exactly a minute before he’s asking, “Did you just Han Solo me?”

 

And Keith bursts into laughter.

 

\--

> _ getting your wish fulfilled, _

 

"What are you doing?” Keith’s bemused question comes from overhead.

 

Cracking a sleepy eye open, Shiro looks up at his boyfriend’s dark head haloed by the sunbeams peeking through the foliage.

 

“Taking a nap,” Shiro answers, hands pillowing his head.

 

“I can see that,” Keith snorts, moving to sit down under the shade of the large tree. As soon as he’s seated, Shiro shifts to rest his head on Keith’s thigh and goes back to enjoying his day off.

 

It’s a beautiful day to do nothing but relax. A faint breeze makes the leaves shake and whisper, a gentle lullaby spinning cobwebs around Shiro’s mind and lulling him to sleep. Further up the tree, a bird trills and chirps sweetly before its call is answered. Keith’s hand is bare when it sweeps Shiro’s hair off his forehead.

 

“How was your meeting?” Shiro asks, hoping the conversation will keep him awake.

 

Another snort, more annoyed than amused. “I’d rather eat three helpings of Coran’s special paladin food than sit through another treaty meeting.” Shiro snickers and gets pinched for it. “It’s  _ not _ funny! Do you even know what they were arguing about today?”

 

Shiro peeks up into Keith’s irate expression and teases, “Off-planet mining rights again?”

 

“Oh I  _ wish _ it was mining rights!” Keith rolls his eyes, exasperated beyond belief. He pauses for dramatic effect before drawling, “Inter-galactic space tariffs.”

 

Blinking, Shiro asks, “Say what?”

 

“Yeah. Inter-galactic space tariffs. A whole bunch of people wanted to talk about what kind of duties and taxes Earth would have to pay if they entered into a formal agreement with our group.”

 

Shiro squints up in deep confusion, “But this isn’t a trade treaty?”

 

Keith makes an angry gesture of agreement, “Didn’t stop them from arguing about it with Allura and me for half the morning.”

 

Laughing, Shiro reaches up to tug on Keith’s bangs and pull him down for a quick kiss, “Sorry you had to deal with that.”

 

His lover's nose scrunches up momentarily before he grumbles, “S’okay. You’ve been putting up with their shit since we got back. You deserve the break.” Keith’s hand goes back to sliding through Shiro’s hair, each gentle rake sending tingles of pleasure shooting down the older paladin’s body.

 

“What did  _ you _ do today?”

 

With a stretch and a hum, Shiro relaxes further in Keith’s lap before answering, “Went back to sleep after you left. Had breakfast at the Mess Hall. Checked out the rest of the campus. Found this place and thought I’d catch a nap.”

 

They’re in one of the smaller gardens on campus, in an area with very little foot traffic. Which means the only ones who get to hear Keith’s gentle laugh are Shiro and the birds overhead.

 

“Sounds like you had a good day.”

 

“It’s not over yet,” Shiro points out, capturing Keith’s hand with his own and kissing the fingertips. “We could spend the rest of the day in bed. Go out to town for dinner.”

 

Keith sighs, regretful, “I wish I could. I have to debrief some bigwigs about the Galra and their weapons. I  _ could _ do dinner though.”

 

The hopeful smile directed his way brightens considerably at Shiro’s nod. That smile is the reason why Shiro never missed the sun even in the depths of space. Anytime it’s directed his way, Shiro feels warmed from the inside out.

 

Somewhere in the distance, an engine revs up, splutters, and makes its driver curse a blue streak that has the pair of them chuckling.

 

“It’s nice to be back,” Shiro sighs with deep contentment, forcing himself not to think about how long it’s been. Instead, he thinks of how warm the Earth sun is. How lovely the grass smells. How his parents will be arriving tomorrow and he’ll get to hug both of them after  _ so, so _ long. Almost three years all together.

 

Keith hums in distracted agreement, taking his hand back. Shiro peeks up at the dark haired man, who is twirling a yellow dandelion around on its long stem. “I can’t believe there’s so much I’d forgotten about Earth.”

 

"Like what?” Shiro asks, closing his eyes again.

 

There’s a quiet moment of consideration before Keith answers, “Like how dust smells in the desert. Or the smell after it rains. I’d forgotten how great fried eggs and beans were. Not to mention burgers. The sound of a hover bike revving up.”

 

Keith’s voice grows progressively softer as he continues. Shiro can’t help but feel this trip has incredibly well-timed and serendipitous. They’re at the climax of their war against the Galra and this? Coming back to Earth in the hopes of getting them into the Galaxy Alliance to fight against Zarkon? It’s been the perfect way to remind them all of just what they’re fighting for.

 

Himself included.

 

“It feels like falling back in love with the place, doesn’t it?” Keith’s contemplative question makes Shiro smile and nod. Eyes still closed. He feels a dry kiss brush against his forehead and his smile widens. There’s a promise burning behind that kiss. A determination that Shiro understands and mirrors.

 

That they’ll keep fighting for their home.

 

That they  _ will _ protect this precious planet and all its inhabitants.

 

Neither of them says a word after that. Content to enjoy each other's company as the world spins on. Shiro’s close to dozing off when Keith’s quiet, “Gimme your hand?” rouses him.

 

Sleepily and without question, Shiro offers Keith his right hand. Keith chuckles, “Other hand.” The left hand goes up immediately.

 

The Velcro strapping his glove in place loosens noisily. Keith quickly pulls the soft leather off and Shiro wonders what the other man has planned. A hand massage? A kiss? He smiles a little at the latter thought, expression freezing when he feels Keith slip a band around his left index finger.

 

His eyes fly open, staring straight up at the dandelion ring he’s wearing now. It’s too big for his finger and the knot feels like it’s going to come undone any second now. It’s perfect.

 

Shiro turns his gaze to Keith, and feels himself melt at the gentle look he catches on the other paladin’s face. “Is this your way of asking me to marry you?”

 

A ruddy red color floods Keith’s cheeks almost immediately, his embarrassed scowl turning off to the side as he mutters, “Like I’d give you a flower ring if I was gonna propose. I’d get you a proper ring.”

 

There’s  _ no _ helping the warmth that fills his cheeks at that. Shiro  _ has _ to reach out to touch Keith’s cheek and make their eyes meet again. It’s important that they look at each other when he asks, “You’ve thought about that?”

 

“'course I have,” Keith admits in an endearingly shy voice. His fingers gently touch the yellow dandelion petals before bending over to press a gentle kiss to the ring. “When I propose, it’s going to be with a proper ring.”

 

“What if I like this one?” Shiro asks, voice hoarse.

 

Eyeing the ring, an unplanned bit of sentimentality on Keith’s part, the other man answers, “Then... I guess you can think of it like a promise ring?”

 

Shiro surges up at that, unable to bear the fact that he’s not kissing Keith. He tangles his fingers in Keith’s hair, pressing an open mouthed kiss against his lips. Pouring all his love into the tender touch.

 

“When you ask me,” Shiro whispers when they break away, foreheads touching. “I’ll say yes.”

 

Keith’s grin is broad and delighted and shaky at the edges. His eyes glimmer wetly, voice as rough as Shiro’s when he says, “I love you.”

 

They’ve said those three words so,  _ so _ many times over the past year. Too many times to keep count. And yet they  _ still _ send a thrill running through Shiro.

 

“I love you too,” he murmurs, moving in to steal another kiss. And another. And another before he’s pushing Keith back down into a patch of dandelions.

 

\--

> _ and long lasting happiness and youthful joy. _

 

“Is this it?” Rina asks, already stepping out of the car.

 

Pulling the seat belt off, Shiro follows her lead and answers, “Yep. You really don’t remember this place?”

 

Rina’s squinting at the shack they’ll be spending the next two days in, deep blue eyes shaded with a hand, “Not at all.” She shoots him a wry grin. “It  _ has _ been seven years Daddy.”

 

“Can’t believe it’s been that long,” Keith sighs, moving to pull their youngest, May, out of her seat.

 

The seven year old sleepily rubs her cheek against Keith’s shoulder, plump arms wrapped around the man’s neck and asks, “’re we there yet?”

 

“Yeah, baby,” Keith murmurs back, pushing her broad-brimmed sunhat out of the way to kiss her cheek. She rubs a fist against her eye, yawning broadly as Keith walks around the car to stand next to Shiro.

 

Rina is already walking away, braid swaying with every step. “I’m gonna check the rest of this place out.”

 

May immediately wriggles out of Keith’s grip, trotting after her older sister with a high, “Nee-chan, wait for me!”

 

Shiro grins at the sight, leaning against Keith when he wraps an arm around Shiro’s waist, “They’ve got your wanderlust.”

 

“Like you’re not the same damn way,” Keith retorts easily, pressing back when Shiro slips his arm around his husband’s shoulders.

 

For a moment, they stand there, contemplating the shack where their journey started. It’s been twenty years since that fateful night when Shiro came crashing back to Earth. Seventeen years since the defeated Zarkon and the Galra. Fourteen years since they brought Rina home, bundled up carefully in her green blanket. Seven years since May joined their little family.

 

It’s in surprisingly good shape given it’s age. Sure, the paint’s peeling in a few,  _ large _ spots, but it still looks structurally sound. There’s even a good patch of green edging the small house.

 

And as though he’s read his thoughts, Keith asks, “Can you believe it’s already been twenty years?”

 

Shiro cannot. After fifteen years of being married and fourteen years of being a dad, Shiro  _ still _ has mornings where he’ll stand in a daze in their messy kitchen and wonder if he’s dreaming. That maybe he’s still locked up in a Galra ship prison, hallucinating of better realities.

 

But then Rina will bounce past him, asking if he’s seen her shirt or good jeans, or May will tackle his legs, yelling her breakfast demands up to him. Or better yet, Keith will stumble in, kiss his stubbled cheek, and ask what are his plans for the day and Shiro will settle into the realization that this is his life now. HE has achieved domestic bliss.

 

He glances over at his left hand and the wedding ring glinting there and smiles, “Doesn’t feel like it.”

 

Keith’s hand squeezes his hip, before drifting lower to slip it into Shiro’s jeans pocket. “I still can’t believe this place is still standing. I really thought it’d have blown away or something.”

 

Shiro chuckles, “I’m not.”

 

“Really?” Keith asks curiously. “Why not?”

 

With an enigmatic little shrug, Shiro answers, “I’m just not. This place is a lot sturdier than people give it credit.”

 

Keith stares at the structure with a contemplative look, trying to find the qualities that would prove Shiro’s words true. From the other side of the shack comes a small shriek of laugh followed by a peel of laughter. Heart swelling with emotion, Shiro presses a kiss into Keith’s hair and murmurs, “Hey...” and waits for Keith to make a questioning noise. “I love you.”

 

Behind his closed eyes, Shiro can imagine the smile his words bring to Keith’s face. He can practically hear it in Keith’s voice when he answers, “Love you too.” Can feel it in the kiss that presses against his lips.

 

They’ve exchanged countless pecks, and yet the novelty of kissing Keith has never grown old. A kiss like this, one laden with intent and love, still makes Shiro shiver. His hands move, one pulling Keith closer while the other wraps around the shorter man’s nape.

 

One kiss turns into two, three, four, each one more passionate than the one before. Shiro’s thinking about pushing Keith back into the car and seeing where this goes, when the sound of someone deliberately and loudly clearing their throat makes them break apart.

 

With an amused grin, Rina teases them, “Maybe we should get our stuff out of the car  _ before _ you guys get all lovey-dovey?”

 

Keith steals one last kiss before slipping out of his arms. Shiro sighs, wistful and longing, because so much for some quickie car sex.  _ Maybe tonight _ , he tells himself as he touches the button to open the car trunk.

 

“Daddy! Papa! Nee-chan!” May hollers.

 

Shiro turns towards the yell, same as Keith and Rina, watching the young girl race up to him while holding a bunch of dandelions in hand. The teenager laughs when she sees them.  “Where’d you find those?”

 

May holds one of the fluffy seed heads out for the older girl to take.  “Next to the wood pile. Here, Papa.” She hands Keith a dandelion as well before moving to Shiro.

 

He crouches down to accept his half-dandelion head as well, smile growing when May informs them to make a wish. Shiro meets Keith’s gaze, an old memory of a much younger Keith telling the same to a young, battered Shiro welling between them..

 

Shiro shakes his head gently and hands his flower back. “My wish already came true, sweetie.”

 

“It did?” May asks, dark eyes widening in wonder. “What did you wish for?”

 

Shiro smiles, adjusting her sunhat before answering, “Happiness.”

 

He hears Keith’s sharp inhale at his answer and looks up. Keith’s staring at him the same way he did on their wedding day. On that night when they’d agreed it was time to start a family and start looking for a suitable surrogate. The day they’d renewed their vows.

 

It’s wonder, gratitude, love, disbelief, all rolled together into a complicated expression that screams “I can’t believe I’m so lucky to have your love.”

 

May pulls his attention back to her. “Are you happy now, Daddy?”

 

A wide grin stretches across his face almost immediately, “Never been happier.”

 

The young girl stares at the dandelions in her pudgy fist, obviously contemplating her wish with great care. Behind Keith, even Rina is staring at her dandelion with an unusual amount of intensity. Keith, however, only has eyes for him.

 

“Was that really what you wished for?” he asks in quiet voice. Shiro nods, pressing a palm against Keith’s side. Keith lets his dandelion go in favor of holding Shiro’s face and kissing him hard.

 

Shiro grins into the kiss, like he’s bursting from the seams with happiness. He starts slightly when feels the softest brush against his cheek, and opens his eyes to see dandelion seeds floating past them.

 

Behind Keith, Rina smiles gently at the pair of them, bare seed head in hand.

 

She doesn’t say it, but Shiro thinks he knows what she wished for.

 

\--

> _ I wish you both stay happy together and forever. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> time to start working on the _other_ long sheith fic i've got lmao


End file.
